I've stumbled across a Sylvia Plath poem that makes my heart clench and stars my eyes:
Poppies in October
Even the sun-clouds this morning cannot manage such skirts.
Nor the woman in the ambulance
Whose red heart blooms through her coat so astoundingly--
A gift, a love gift
Utterly unasked for
By a sky
Palely and flamily
Igniting its carbon monoxides, by eyes
Dulled to a halt under bowlers.
O my God, what am I
That these late mouths should cry open
In a forest of frost, in a dawn of cornflowers.
Could there be anything more beautiful than the lines "O my God, what am I/ that..." I have never hear wonder expressed so aptly, the overwhelming feeling that sweeps through you, makes you throw your head back, look at the sky, open to everything.
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